


Playing Through It

by catwrites



Series: Chaleigh Sports AUs [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 00:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwrites/pseuds/catwrites
Summary: New skates: $749.99Playing for the NHL: one contract, several hard hip checks, and a handful of broken sticksFalling for your defensive partner: Priceless.





	Playing Through It

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> In honor of the NHL season starting up, have some hockey!au. 
> 
> I didn't put them on any specific teams, though I mentioned one real team and hinted at another with the goal song. I wanted to keep it relatively unbiased.
> 
> Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own.

_”With the first pick, we are proud to select from the Sydney Ice Dogs of the Australian Ice Hockey League, Chuck Hansen.”_

_Broadcaster 1: It’s a good pick. They just lost their top line defenseman in free agency, and it’s no secret they’ve been shopping around for a replacement._

_Broadcaster 2: That’s a pretty big leap for a young player to make. Not only would he have to crack the opening night roster, but impress enough for the club to feel like they could trust him with top line minutes._

_B1: With his numbers, he certainly has the raw talent._

_B2: I’m not saying he lacks the talent. I’m just proposing that they have some options already in their system to put on that top pair. Raleigh Becket can make anyone look good when they play next to him. It’ll be easier to shuffle some things around than to try and pressure a young guy to handle the stress fresh out of a semi-professional league._

_B1: Exactly, they have Raleigh Becket to guide him. With their record last season, they don’t have much to lose by experimenting with their defense. Things can only get better._

_B2: I certainly won’t argue that point._

_Pierre: I’m joined now by Chuck Hansen, the first overall draft pick. Now, Chuck, you’re not only the first pick, but you’re the highest drafted Australian player to the NHL. Were you worried about your draft position at all?_

_Hansen: To tell you the truth Pierre, I didn’t have a doubt I was going to go first._

_Pierre: Really?_

_Hansen: What can I say, I know I’m good._

_Pierre: Even with the speculation that Mako Mori might be drafted first?_

_Hansen: Not a lot of teams use their first picks on goalies anymore._

_Pierre: So you were confident about your draft position, how about on cracking the opening night roster? Speculation has you up on the top line defensive pair with Raleigh Becket._

_Hansen: You can bet on it, mate._

Raleigh mutes the tv with a snort. “What a cocky asshole.”

Yancy grins. “Don’t trash talk your future partner, kid.”

Raleigh stands up, grabbing the empty pizza box and their plates as the broadcast switches to commercial. “Don’t even front. That’s the kind of kid who always heard he was the best. It’s going to be a shock for him when he realizes that isn’t the case. I bet he stays down in the minors for at least a season.”

“They all seemed pretty complimentary of his skill, Rals,” Yancy calls after him as he walks into the kitchen. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.”

They watch the rest of the draft, bickering about players and which teams used their picks best.

Raleigh pulls up game tape of Hansen later, safely locked away in his room where Yancy won’t make fun of him for it.

The kid is good. A fast skater, good play maker, physical. Raleigh wanted the hype to be wrong, but he’s good. Maybe he had a right to be so damn cocky.

\----

The off-season seems long. It always does, but missing the playoffs still stings to think about. 

Eventually, Yancy is packing up to go back to his team as training camps roll around. Raleigh’s excited for the season. He’s finally back in an environment that feels comfortable to him. He greets all his teammates, introduces himself to the new guys, and settles in to shake the rust off.

Chuck is just as grating in person as he was on tv. More so because Raleigh can’t just mute him.

“Becket. I watched some of your tape over the offseason. I think our play styles will go together nicely.”

It’s the first thing out of his mouth, smirk firmly in place, and Raleigh kind of wants to deck him.

“Yeah, we’ll see kid. You have to make it through training camp first.”

Chuck snorts. “I’m not worried about that, mate. What about you though? Looking a little pudgy there. Sure you’re going to pass your physical?”

Raleigh gapes at him as he saunters away. Raleigh rolls his eyes, unwillingly impressed by the audacity of it.

Yancy nearly laughs himself sick when Raleigh tells him about it that night on the phone.

“Kid has balls, that’s for sure,” Yancy says when he finally calms down enough.

Raleigh just huffs. “How’s camp going for you?”

“Great. Tendo stepped on a puck today and hit his face with his own stick trying to keep his skates. He’s got the ugliest busted lip. He’s fine, and it was hilarious.”

“I don’t understand how he can be so uncoordinated and still be one of your top forwards.”

“Beats me, bro. The difference between him at practice and him during a game is night and day.”

They talk for a bit longer before Raleigh begs off so he can sleep.

“Good luck at camp. Get a video of Tendo next time.”

“I bet one of the people in the stands got one. I’ll check Twitter tomorrow. Good luck with the kid.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Yancy laughs as he hangs up.

\----

For the first two on-ice sessions, Raleigh and Chuck rotate pairings. The coaches watch them run drills, then give them new partners. 

At the end of the second day, before heading off the ice, Raleigh sticks around to goof off with some of the rookies. They’re taking shots at the net, practicing one-timers, and some fancier moves for kicks. It’s all in good fun. Raleigh is stickhandling, bouncing a puck off the boards, when Chuck swings by and steals it from him with a slick twist of his own stick that lifts Raleigh’s off the ice. 

Chuck spins away from Raleigh’s reach and carries his prize towards the empty end of the ice. Raleigh skates after him, and poke checks the puck off his stick.

He doesn’t know how long they play keep away like that, but eventually Raleigh manages to get the puck back, and then sends it with a quick wrister passed Chuck and into the net. 

They stand there, panting and leaning against their sticks, as they try and catch their breath. Someone starts clapping behind them. Raleigh jumps in surprise, only just realizing they’d been putting on quite a show for the guys still on the ice, and the few fans sitting in the stands.

Chuck grins at him. “Thanks. That’s the most difficult thing I think I’ve done while at camp. You’ve got nice hands.”

Raleigh smiles carefully. “You’ve got some hands yourself, kid.”

Chuck gently bumps his shoulder as he skates by. Raleigh watches him sign a few jerseys that are dangled in front of him in the tunnel.

Chuck can be abrasive, and annoying, but he’s a good player, and generally a good guy. 

Day three, they run drills as a unit, and the coaches keep them together.

“Saw you guys after practice. Seems we may finally have someone who can keep up with you after all,” the head coach tells Raleigh with a clap on the back.

Raleigh has to admit, at least in the drills, Chuck keeps up better than anyone else ever has.

\----

Training camp winds down, and the team heads into the preseason with a desire to prove themselves after their horrible record last year.

Chuck isn’t part of the first group sent down to the minor team. In fact, he plays in the preseason games on Raleigh’s left. For the most part, they do okay, and they end up winning four of the six games in the preseason.

Raleigh, as a veteran with a secure roster spot, doesn’t play in all the games, but Chuck does. Chuck is at least even in all those games.

From all the post-game press, it seems like their coach is extremely impressed with Chuck. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the opening night roster, no. He’s done of hell of a job. He’s a good skater, he’s hard on the puck. He plays smart hockey. He does all the little things right.”

Raleigh listens to all those key coach analysis phrases and figures Chuck is sticking around. Chuck still grates on him more often than not, but he figures there are worse guys he could be paired with.

\----

They win their home opener, and it feels good to be back in front of their fans. Their first away game doesn’t go as well.

“Hey, you have to cover your side! You left their winger wide open,” Raleigh shouts, gesturing to Newt as he sweeps the puck out of their net angrily.

“You were the one out of position when we hit their blue line. I was trying to compensate for that,” Chuck argues, slapping his stick on the ice in frustration.

Their teammates give them a wide berth. They argue a lot. On the bench, on the ice. Everyone tends to let them at it now that they realized it somehow helps them to yell at each other.

The goal song for the home team blares over the arena’s sound system. Raleigh used to like this song, before he started playing hockey. Damn them. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to hear Prince the same way again.

“We have got to be better at communicating,” Raleigh says, circling around Chuck slowly as they skate back to the bench. 

“I can’t be everywhere, mate. If you’re out of position, I’m out of position. It’s as simple as that.”

Raleigh feels his angry frustration deflate. “You’re right. That goal is on me.”

Chuck bumps into him cautiously. “We’ll get better, yeah? We’ll work on it.”

Raleigh smiles despite the scoreboard. “Yeah, we will.”

They score a beauty on their next shift. Raleigh feeds Chuck who sends a snipe top shelf passed their goalie. 

They still lose the game, but the two of them are even in plus/minus after that. Not that stats count for much if it isn’t a W, but it’s something.

Raleigh has always been one of the guys that the media seeks out after games, especially after a loss. He takes the ‘A’ on his chest seriously, so he always puts his brave face on and goes out to face his executioners. 

“Tell us about that breakdown on their second goal,” one of the reporters says.

Raleigh takes a second to wipe his sweaty forehead off on the hem of his shirt and give himself some time to think. 

“I pinched in too far to help our forwards along the boards. When the puck came loose, and their center picked it up, Chuck had moved in to compensate for how far in I had moved. Their winger slipped through because of my lapse in judgement, got a breakaway. There’s not a lot Newt can do in net on something like that.”

“So you don’t think it has anything to do with his inexperience in the NHL?”

“Definitely not. Chuck is one of the smartest players I’ve had the privilege to skate with on defense. If I’m out of position, Chuck’s out of position. He can’t cover the entire blueline on his own.”

Their PR manager comes forward. “That’s the final question, thank you.”

Raleigh gives a little wave to the room and lets her lead him back out.

It never gets easier, answering to the critics.

\----

They manage to string together some wins. They’re already doing better this season than they did last season.

Raleigh and Chuck still don’t exactly get along, but they can play together with a level of consistency that the team desperately needs if they’re going to make it to the playoffs.

It’s only the seventh game of the season, and they’re scoreless heading into the second period.

Raleigh doesn’t see the hit coming, is the thing. He’s looking down, watching the puck rattle along the boards, passed over from Newt in net. Then he’s on the ice, the ceiling of the arena grey and blurry. The crowd is silent, which is Raleigh’s first clue that something bad happened. He blinks a few times before he sits up slowly, and his vision swims.

Chuck is suddenly at his side, but Raleigh can’t really hear what he’s saying over the ringing in his ears. The way his head feels, he has a sinking feeling he’s going to be out for some time, but he ignores that and rolls to his knees. 

When he actually tries to stand, his legs wobble under him and he reaches instinctually for Chuck. He idly notes that his gloves aren’t on his hands any more as he watches his fingers tangle into the fabric of Chuck’s sweater. He feels far away from himself, head aching and heavy.

Chuck catches his arm, and gently helps him to his feet. “Careful, Ray. I got you.”

A trainer shows up at his other side, and holds his elbow to steady him. “Easy there, Rals.”

Chuck helps him skate back to the locker room as the trainer follows along behind them.

“Are you okay?” Chuck asks quietly.

Raleigh grimaces. “I don’t think I’ll be back out”

His teammates tap their sticks gently on the ice as he’s lead by, and he smiles tightly at them, before Chuck hands him off to the trainer who leads him down the tunnel and into the dark room.

They fuss over him, checking his eyes, and sensitivity to light and sound. They frown, and Raleigh sits through it quietly.

He knows what a concussion feels like. He doesn’t need them to confirm it for him, though they do. The careful bad news delivery, said gently. 

No proper timeline for return, you can never be too sure with head injuries. Don’t try to come back before you’re one hundred percent. Don’t try and play through this. Don’t lie to us.

Raleigh sighs, and sits for the rest of the game in the quiet room. He watches the Twitter feed for the game, despite how looking at the screen hurts his eyes. 

At some point, footage shows up on his timeline of Chuck dropping the gloves with the player Raleigh knows knocked him into the boards. Chuck’s face is livid, blood pouring out of his nose. Raleigh’s honestly surprised. He hadn’t picked Chuck as the first one to drop the gloves for him, though he knows Chuck isn’t opposed to fighting.

When the game is over, someone knocks softly on the door before opening it slowly. Chuck peeks in, hair wet and curling at the ends from his postgame shower. His eye is already starting to bruise, and his lip is split and swollen. 

“Hey.”

“Hey. Nice powerplay goal.”

“Thanks. How’s the head?”

Raleigh shrugs. “It hurts.”

Chuck frowns sympathetically and offers him a pair of sunglasses. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Raleigh puts the glasses on before the walk out into the hall, where the artificial light still makes him squint uncomfortably. 

“Fuck,” he says with feeling, pausing for a minute to adjust.

Chuck takes his arm. “Close your eyes, I won’t let you walk into anything.”

Raleigh does so gratefully, and they make it out to the parking garage without incident. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Chuck asks when he finally pulls up out in front of Raleigh’s house. 

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I have to go to a follow up with the trainers tomorrow morning, though, if you wouldn’t mind picking me up on your way to practice.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

Raleigh climbs out of the car slowly, before turning back towards Chuck. His eyes get caught on his bloody knuckles in the yellow glow of the streetlights. “Hey, thanks. For driving me home, and defending my honor and all that.”

Chuck smiles. “Well, you know me. Always itching for a fight.”

Raleigh manages a small smile of his own, before shuffling up the front steps and stepping gratefully into his dark and silent house.

\----

They go on the road without him. 

Raleigh does everything the trainers and team doctors tell him to do. He follows those instructions to the letter because he wants to be back on the ice fast, but he doesn’t want to hurt himself worse in the process. 

It sucks. The light sensitivity, the sensitivity to noise, fades bit by bit, but he knows as well as any player that concussions take time. Head injuries are different for everyone.

He just has to wait it out.

That doesn’t make him feel any better as his team plays without him. As Chuck plays with different partners each game because there’s no chemistry with anyone else. He wonders if their teammates can handle Chuck when he’s at his worst, yelling and cursing as they lose. Do they know he needs them to push back? 

How many sticks did he shatter over his knee in frustration as the opposing team kept racking up points?

He doesn’t know, and he should be there. He can’t even fucking watch on the tv without his head pounding.

Raleigh hates it, but there’s nothing he can do.

\----

Raleigh watches the box score for their first game back after the road trip, the screen of his phone dimmed as low as it’ll go. The team loses 9-2, and Chuck has an awful -6. He gathered from Twitter that Chuck even sat the last ten minutes of the game.

He’s miserable, his head hurts, and he’s frustrated that he couldn’t be there with them. Win or lose, they’re supposed to be in it together, and here he is, sprawled out in his bed doing absolutely nothing. He tosses his phone to the side and rolls over. 

When he wakes up in the morning, he has a two-sentence voicemail from Chuck. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Ray. I don’t know how to play without you.”

Raleigh calls him back, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blindly down at his bare feet. 

It goes straight to voicemail.

Raleigh hesitates for a second. “It’s not permanent, okay? You’ll get better at playing with someone else, and before you know it I’ll be back on the blueline with you.”

Chuck shows up at his house just after lunch. It’s an off day, but Raleigh’s still surprised to see him. They’ve never spent time together outside of the rink or team functions. Chuck doesn’t mention the phone call, or if he got Raleigh’s message.

“Figure I can come keep you company while you can’t do anything fun.”

“I can’t do anything, which means you also won’t be able to do anything here. I can’t watch tv, or play video games or anything else you might usually do to entertain yourself.”

Chuck shrugs, unbothered.

Raleigh lets him in.

They end up sprawled on his couch, Chuck scrolling on his phone while Raleigh dozes. He gets up eventually to take his pain meds, but settles right back on the couch.

“How bad is it?” Chuck asks him quietly, not looking away from his phone.

“It’s not fun, but I’ll live.”

“Come here.”

Raleigh glances at him in confusion.

Chuck reaches for him, and Raleigh goes. Raleigh lets Chuck move him around as he sees fit until Raleigh has his head comfortably in Chuck’s lap. 

“Okay?”

Raleigh nods, though he still isn’t sure what’s happening.

Chuck nods decisively, and looks back at his phone before he deliberately runs his fingers through Raleigh’s hair. 

“Still okay?” 

Raleigh nods again, and his eyes drop closed almost without his permission as Chuck keeps working his fingers gently over Raleigh’s scalp.

“When I got a concussion in high school, my mom did this for me,” Chuck says after several minutes of silence. “I remember it helped as much as anything could.”

“It feels nice,” Raleigh agrees.

Chuck hums, but doesn’t say anything else, and Raleigh falls asleep like that.

\----

Raleigh misses thirteen games. It seems like forever. Chuck spends a lot of his free time lounging on Raleigh’s couch, phone in one hand as he runs the fingers of his other through Raleigh’s hair. 

His first game back, he scores from the blueline on a feed from Chuck in the first minute of the first period. Chuck crashes into him, unintentionally spinning them around in his exuberance.

“Good to have you back, Ray,” Chuck says loudly in his ear over the sound of the goal song. 

Raleigh grins.

They win the game.

\----

“You’re still staying in a hotel?” Raleigh asks Chuck, idling in the parking lot.

He hadn’t realized the fact, and he feels guilty that he apparently hadn’t been paying attention. He had just assumed Chuck had taken up with one of their teammates. Normally rookies lock in with someone for their first season. 

Chuck shrugs. “I wanted to be on the roster for opening night, mate, but I wasn’t sure it would happen. I didn’t want to jinx it by preemptively getting an apartment. I know I’m a lot to handle sometimes, so I wasn’t going to ask to crash with someone, either. This was easier.”

Raleigh opens his mouth before he even properly thinks about it. “I have spare rooms. My house is huge, I don’t need all that space for just me.”

Chuck stares at him. 

Raleigh back pedals. “I mean, you don’t have to. It’s just an option. It’s not fun living out of hotel rooms. I’ve done it.”

Chuck still doesn’t say anything.

“Just think about it.”

Chuck nods, and climbs out of the car. “Thanks, Ray.”

Raleigh nods. “See you for practice tomorrow.”

\----

“You asked him to move in with you.”

Raleigh groans. “He’s living in a hotel, Yance. Don’t you remember your first season in the NHL? Not knowing if you would get to stay, scared to unpack just in case you got sent back down?”

“Sorry. Just, at the beginning of the season you were complaining about how big of a jerk he was, and a few months later you want to share a bathroom.”

“I’ll still have my own bathroom. He hasn’t even taken me up on the offer, anyway,” Raleigh says petulantly, blatantly ignoring the point.

Yancy doesn’t let him get away with it. “You’ve complained more about him in our last few phone calls than you’ve talked about anything else.”

Raleigh thinks about the blackeye Chuck got for him, and the voicemail he still can’t bring himself to delete on his phone.

“He’s grown on me,” Raleigh says.

“Whatever you say, man.”

“I’m giving him your room.”

Yancy squawks indignantly as Raleigh hangs up the phone.

Chuck text him later that night.

_still have a free room??_

_check out of the hotel. bring all your shit to practice tomorrow._

_Thanks, Raleigh._

\----

Chuck looks the most uncomfortable Raleigh has ever seen him, standing with two duffle bags in the entryway.

“What the fuck, dude. You’ve been here so many times. Stash your shit in one of the guest rooms upstairs. Yancy already has the one down here claimed because he’s too lazy for stairs in the offseason. Mine is at the end of the hall upstairs. Any of the other three up there are free for the taking.”

Chuck nods and heads for the stairs. 

“When you’re finished unpacking, we’ll go out for lunch,” Raleigh calls after him. 

Chuck buys him lunch with a smile. “Thanks, Ray. It’s nice to have a place that feels more permanent here.”

“No problem. But there’s no free maid service or anything like that, so you’ll have to actually pick up after yourself now.”

Chuck kicks him under the table with a grin. “Wanker.”

\----

Hercules Hansen is intimidating, and Raleigh tries not to make it too obvious that he thinks so when they pick him up from the airport. Herc flies in for the father’s trip from Australia. Raleigh isn’t entirely sure what he does beyond something with the military.

They always do the father’s or mentor’s trip in mid-December, so Herc’s elected to stay in town through Christmas. 

“Of course, he can stay with us, Chuck,” Raleigh foolishly says when Chuck first brings it up. “It’s not like I have anyone coming on this roadie with us.”

Before Raleigh got drafted, Yancy used to ask him on his team’s trip. It’s been just the two of them for some time, and the league always allowed it. After Raleigh made it to the show, there’s no one else to invite. Raleigh won’t deny Chuck the opportunity to spend extra time with his father.

“Are you sure, mate? He’s a lot to deal with, and I know that’s got to mean something coming from me.”

Herc is a no-nonsense type of guy, and Raleigh feels extremely guilty for the few dirty dishes in their kitchen sink and their meager provisions in the fridge.

“Sorry it’s such a mess. We’re on the road a lot.”

Herc looks at him for a second before he grins. “Son, I know what hockey life is like. This place is cleaner than we ever managed to keep our house and I was home most of the time.”

Chuck snorts. “He makes us clean the house together on a bi-weekly basis. He’s a right nag.”

Chuck softens the slight with a smile.

“It’s how he pays his rent,” Raleigh says sarcastically.

Herc makes a considering noise. “Shoulda thought of that back when you were home to boss around.”

Raleigh listens to them bicker and thinks perhaps Herc’s not so scary after all.

“Thanks for letting him stay here,” Chuck tells him later as they wash dishes side by side. Herc cooked for them, so Raleigh ushered him out into the living room to relax.

“Of course, Chuck. This is your house too, you know.”

Chuck smiles at him softly, and that’s the end of it.

\----

They build up their record, and they’re in a playoff position by the time they head into the All-Star break. It’s a good spot to be, even with so much of the season left.

Raleigh and Chuck weren’t invited to the All-Star Game, which is honestly fine with Raleigh. He much prefers the week off to take some time and relax. Yancy flies down with Tendo, and they get the privilege of meeting Chuck off the ice. 

Chuck is a completely different person on the ice. He plays a fairly mental game, though Raleigh wouldn’t go so far as to call him an agitator. He’s definitely an asshole, though. Off the ice, he’s fairly calm, though still chirpy. 

Yancy and Chuck hit it off immediately, though most of their bonding is done over giving Raleigh shit. 

Tendo watches the whole thing in amusement, and they spend the break golfing and relaxing at the pool in the backyard.

The season is never easy, and it’s nice to get a break. To get time to hang out with Yancy and Tendo when he doesn’t really get to see them during the season outside of games.

\----

They drop their first four games after the All-Star break. Chuck keeps talking about next season, and all the things they’ll work on. The plays they’ll try and the skills they’ll build on.

Raleigh eventually has to say something.

“You know I’m a free agent at the end of the season, right?” Raleigh asks carefully.

Chuck wrinkles his nose in confusion. “Yeah? You say that like you aren’t going to get a contract extension or something.”

Raleigh shrugs. “It’s always a possibility. They let one of their top line defense walk at the end of last season. They have you now. You’re young, a little edgier. It wouldn’t hurt them to make their team younger, free up some cap too. We aren’t the Hawks, but every team could always use more wiggle room on that front.”

Chuck snorts. “I don’t find it likely they just let you go, mate. There are several pending free agents they might consider letting walk, but I doubt it’ll be you. You’re an alternate, for bloody sake.”

Raleigh nods, and lets it go. The problem is, he’s already had some talks with management. He’s expensive and he’s aging. They want to make it work, but they want to pay him what he’s worth.

It’s what they always tell the players they can’t afford to keep anymore.

\----

They make the playoffs on a Thursday. Third seed in their division, but it’s better than they did last season by a mile, so Raleigh will take it. 

When they go out to celebrate, all Raleigh can think about is the fact that he won’t be here next season. 

He downs another shot of whiskey, the burn in his throat not completely from the alcohol. Chuck is grinning at the bar, leaning way over to gesture at the bartender. 

The rest of the team is an excited mass around him. 

Raleigh leans back in the booth and closes his eyes. What a night to feel miserable. 

\----

They get knocked out in the second round. Chuck stands at his side as the opposing team celebrates their win.

“We’ll get it next season,” Chuck says with a fierce conviction. 

“Yeah,” Raleigh says, and doesn’t offer anything else. It’d be cruel to tell Chuck now. 

\----

His agent calls him when he hits free agency. “You have any teams in particular you want me to reach out to?”

Raleigh doesn’t. The team he wants to play for doesn’t want him anymore. He even offered to take less money, but their captain’s new contract will kick in, and they can’t take enough off his salary to compensate.

Chuck is waiting for him when he gets home from talking to management.

“You fucking knew. You knew.”

Raleigh sighs and tosses his keys onto the table in the entryway. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to be honest with me! This is a big deal.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’m the one who’s getting uprooted in this! You’re still here, aren’t you? You’ll get to keep playing for this team, living in my fucking house, on my goddamn blueline, without me.”

Chuck takes a step back, looking hurt. 

Raleigh closes his eyes and takes a breath. “Can we just pretend that everything is okay for tonight? I just want to forget about it.”

Chuck swallows hard and nods. “Yeah, okay. Wanna play some Call of Duty?”

Raleigh doesn’t. He just wants to sleep for the rest of the summer and wake up where he belongs. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“I did the best I could to stay,” Raleigh says as Chuck’s gets the final kill on him and they watch the replay. “I wanted to stay.”

Chuck doesn’t say anything. Raleigh desperately needs him to understand.

“The best I can do now is just keep playing somewhere else. I wanted to play here, but playing at all will have to do.”

“It just sucks,” Chuck mutters, loading a new map.

“Yeah. It does.”

He signs with a new team six days later. Chuck hides in his room the whole day, and they don’t talk about it when he finally emerges.

They don’t talk about it at all.

Raleigh’s heart fucking aches.

\----

Yancy stuck around in his city to go to a few weddings in the offseason, but he shows up in late July.

“How’s it going, knucklehead?” Yancy says, pulling him in to a tight hug after he pushes his way into the house.

Raleigh shrugs. “It’s going. Sorry about your season.”

Yancy grimaces. “Yeah, too bad we couldn’t make it further, but there’s always next year. Where’s your illustrious roommate?”

As if summoned, Chuck appears at the top of the stairs.

“Oi, look, my favorite Becket is back.”

Yancy grins, shoving Raleigh away. “That’s right he is.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Raleigh says fondly.

Chuck grins, and trots down the stairs to clap Yancy on the back. Yancy draws him into a headlock and holds him there while he squirms.

“So what have you two been doing with your offseason so far?” Yancy asks casually, Chuck still tucked easily under his arm.

“Hanging out. The usual.”

“Let me go, you bloody nuisance,” Chuck demands, still bidding unsuccessfully for freedom.

Yancy does, abruptly and with a grin as Chuck stumbles in surprise. 

“Raleigh’s my favorite again. You can sleep in the backyard.”

“You say that like I even had a chance at overtaking Raleigh. I bet you have a shrine to him in your closet,” Yancy says dismissively.

“If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you light a candle at the altar of it,” Chuck says seriously.

Yancy crosses his heart solemnly. 

“You guys are so fucking weird,” Raleigh complains. “Why did I introduce the two of you again?”

“I needed pointers on how to get on your nerves,” Chuck replies with a grin, wandering away to the living room.

“You do that well enough on your own!” Raleigh calls after him.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Yancy laughs. “Nice to be home.”

Raleigh feels himself sober up at the mention of home.

“How are you doing?” Yancy asks, noticing the change in his expression.

Raleigh shrugs. “I get to keep playing. What more could I want?”

Yancy doesn’t look fooled. “And how about Chuck?”

Raleigh turns his head and doesn’t answer. They haven’t talked about it.

“You two are a mess,” Yancy says, pulling Raleigh into a hug.

“He’s my best friend. It sucks. I want to stay,” Raleigh says into the shoulder of Yancy’s stupidly tight shirt.

“Of course you do, but you’ll make new friends with your new teammates. It’ll be okay. It always is.”

Raleigh huffs unhappily, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

After all, like they always say, hockey is a business.

\----

When the time rolls around for him to pack up and move off to his new city, Chuck makes himself scarce. 

Raleigh waits until the last possible second to get in the cab, and pretends it doesn’t hurt that Chuck didn’t see him off. Yancy sits quietly beside him, heading for his own team, and thankfully doesn’t mention it.

_i couldn’t say it. good luck in the season. i’ll see you for our first game against each other._

Raleigh stares at the words on the screen. He types several replies that he deletes. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t.

Chuck isn’t the only one who doesn’t know how to say goodbye.

\----

Training camp is fine.

He meets his new team. His GM, Stacker Pentecost, shakes his hand firmly with a “Glad to have you” as soon as he makes an appearance at their practice facility to sign the last of his paperwork.

He makes friends with Mako. She’s funny, and clever, and good at what she does. He spends a good hour just trying to send something by her into the net.

He tries to fit in on their blueline.

It’s fine. He’ll live.

Chuck doesn’t text him back when he asks him how his camp is going.

\----

The season starts awfully. For both him and Chuck. He watches all of Chuck’s games when he can, when he isn’t playing himself, and records the rest for when he has time. 

He still hasn’t really talked much to Chuck. They’ve sent a handful of inconsequential texts back and forth, but Raleigh misses him in a way he hadn’t expected to.

He puts all his focus on hockey, on improving his game and his team. 

\----

They aren’t in the same conference, so he only gets to see his old team twice in the season. He doesn’t know if it’s luck or not that his first meeting with them will be a home game in the second week of the season.

As anxious as he was to get to see Chuck, being in different jerseys when they hit the ice makes his skin crawl. Chuck flashes him a grin, shoots a puck softly to him, as he skates around on the other end of the ice for warm-ups.

Raleigh passes it back with a smile, and settles in to his pregame routine. 

In the second, Jin crunches Chuck into the boards, and Raleigh feels his heart drop to his skates watching Chuck go down and stay there. Raleigh skates over immediately when the play is stopped.

“Hey, back up,” Raleigh tells Jin quietly, squeezing in.

Chuck is climbing to his feet when he gets there. 

“I’m okay,” he says to Aleksis, then looks at Raleigh. “Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

Raleigh slides backwards out of the way as Chuck skates back to the bench. He gets into position for the faceoff and tries to shake off that moment of fear he felt.

The game ends in the shootout. It goes to four rounds, before Chuck slides one past Mako five-hole. 

Raleigh is just glad for it to be over. He doesn’t even care that they lost. He can’t shake that awful pit that opened up in his stomach after the hit that sent Chuck to the ice. He tries not to be upset with Jin over it. It was a clean play, and Chuck was fine. 

Chuck is fine.

It was just a hockey play. Happens all the time.

He texts Chuck after the game, just to be sure.

_looked worse than it was, promise. im okay_

He sighs and sets his phone on the nightstand.

\----

His phone wakes him up in the middle of the night a week later.

“Hello?”

He can hear breathing on the other end, but no one says anything. He squints at the caller ID. 

“Chuck?”

Chuck’s breath hitches. “I miss you.”

“Are you okay?” Raleigh sits up a little. He knows what Chuck sounds like when he’s been drinking. He wonders which of his teammates got it for him. He’s not legal in the States.

Chuck laughs, and then groans, the unmistakable slide of skin on skin. “I…”

Raleigh is suddenly wide awake. “Are you…”

“Just talk to me, okay? I miss your voice.”

Raleigh ignores the rustle from Chuck’s end. It’s only weird if he makes it, and Chuck has been a mess. His numbers are on a downtrend, he looks miserable when he talks to the media. His PIMs have been through the roof. If this is all Raleigh can offer in help, so be it.

“What about?”

“Anything, I don’t care. You can even critique my hockey. I’ve been right shit, recently.”

Raleigh hums thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. That saucer pass from last night was beautiful, Chuck. Highlight reel worthy for sure.”

Chuck says lowly, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Between the D’s skates, from behind your own net, right on to the tape of your winger’s stick at their blueline. Beautiful. Perfect, even.”

Chuck’s breathing hard down the line, and Raleigh’s trying not to think too much about what he’s doing. About how Chuck must look, spread out on the sheets of his bed in Raleigh's house. The fact that he’s jerking it to the sound of Raleigh’s _voice_ over the phone talking about a hockey play.

“You watch my games?” he asks, and Raleigh can’t rightly place his tone of voice.

“Of course I watch your games.”

Chuck breathes in sharply.

“And that fight in the second. I shouldn’t encourage that, but God, Chuck.”

Raleigh squirms as Chuck groans. “Did you like that?”

“I did. He didn’t even get a swing off on you. For someone with such soft hands, you sure know how to throw a punch.”

Chuck whimpers, and Raleigh listens avidly. 

“You think I have soft hands?” Chuck asks breathlessly after a beat of silence.

Raleigh thinks about some of his fancier dekes and dangles. “Some of the softest hands I’ve ever seen. You’re such a good player, Chuck.”

Chuck makes a desperate noise. 

“You’re so good. You’re doing so good.”

Chuck whines, high and drawn out, as he comes.

Raleigh listens to him panting, and presses his hand to his crotch to relieve some of the pressure of his erection.

“I can’t play without you, Ray,” Chuck says after his breathing evens out.

“You’ll be fine, Chuck. Sophomore slumps are just a part of the game. You’re not a bad player. You don’t need me.”

Chuck’s defensive stats aren’t the worst, but he takes more penalties than he used to. As in, top ten in the league in penalty minutes. Top five for fighting majors. You aren’t a leader in the league in PIMs if there’s nothing wrong, not the type of player that Raleigh knows Chuck to be at least. He’s not a grinder. He’s not an agitator. He’s got a mouth on him sure, but this Raleigh doesn’t understand.

“I don’t want to play without you,” Chuck amends quietly.

Raleigh doesn’t know what to say to that. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be fine.”

Chuck makes a skeptical noise, but doesn’t refute it. “Thanks, Ray.”

“Anytime, Chuck.”

“Good luck tomorrow night.”

“Thanks.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Raleigh hangs up, and flops back against his pillows. He palms himself through his sleep pants, and ignores the fact that he’s about to jerk off to getting Chuck off by complementing his hockey over the phone. He finishes remembering the way Chuck sounded as he came.

\----

Raleigh can’t stop thinking about it. About how gruff Chuck’s voice got. The whines and the whimpers and the groans. 

The way he said ‘I miss you’ and ‘I don’t want to play without you’.

He’s always found Chuck attractive in an absent way. The kind of way you do when you’re a professional athlete noticing a teammate. It’s something you don’t and can’t dwell on, so you push it down and forget about it. He couldn’t let himself think of Chuck in any other way than as a teammate.

Now, it’s all he can think about. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He doesn’t know if it’s better that this happened while they’re on different teams, far away from each other. 

No matter what, it’s a distraction. It’s affecting his hockey. He plays so poorly that he’s a healthy scratch for the first time in his career.

“Whatever is bothering you, you need to figure it out,” the coach tells him gently. 

Raleigh’s going crazy. They haven’t talked about it, and Raleigh doesn’t know if it’s because Chuck regrets what they did or because he was drunk enough not to remember that it happened. He guesses he’s lucky that Chuck is at least talking to him at all, even if it’s not about that phone call. The usual chirps over texts are all he gets.

He needs to talk to someone about it, though.

_Do you have time to talk sometime today?_

_I can call you after my game tonight if you can wait up that long._

Raleigh has morning skate tomorrow, but he can’t keep bottling this up.

_Yeah, I’ll wait up._

_Are you okay?_

_Honestly I don’t know._

_Okay. I’ll call you after my game, okay? Love you._

_Thanks Yance. Love you too._

“What’s wrong?” Yancy asks immediately when Raleigh picks up that night.

“Good game tonight,” Raleigh says, ignoring the problem for a moment to try and figure out the best place to start.

“Thanks. Now, what’s wrong?”

“I might have made a mistake.”

“Might?”

Raleigh takes a deep breath. “I had phone sex with Chuck.”

Yancy is quiet for long enough that Raleigh checks to make sure he didn’t hang up.

“Yance?”

“I’m here. Just processing.”

After another beat, Yancy sighs. “I’m going to need a little more information, but God, please spare me the explicit details.”

“He called me a few nights ago. He said he missed me, asked me to talk to him because he missed the sound of my voice. I complemented his hockey while he jerked it. I rubbed one out after the call ended.”

“While I think that’s really weird, I don’t see exactly what the problem is just yet. 

“He hasn’t brought it up. I mean, he’s still talking to me, but he hasn’t mentioned that. He’d been drinking, but I don’t know if he was just buzzed or actually drunk. I don’t know if he regrets it or if he even remembers it happened.”

“Do you regret it?”

Raleigh answers without thinking. “No. Not at all. I miss him, and I hadn’t really thought about _why_ I miss him as much as I do, but now I guess it makes a lot of sense. I don’t know if it’s just me though.”

“Bro, I have a feeling if he’s calling you in the middle of the night to have you talk him to orgasm, it isn’t just you.”

“If that’s the case, why hasn’t he mentioned it?”

Raleigh can hear Yancy rolling his eye. “I could ask you the same thing. Honestly, kid, you’ll just have to talk to him. Relationships are all about communication.” 

“What if I mess everything up?” 

“You’re not going to mess anything up. You’re both adults. If he doesn’t feel the same, you’ll just move on. For the record though, I don’t think that will be the case.”

“Thanks, Yancy.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Now, get some sleep. Don’t you have skate in the morning?”

Raleigh laughs. “Yeah, goodnight.”

He falls asleep trying to plot out the best way to bring the subject up with Chuck.

It never really comes up.

\----

His phone pings as he’s almost asleep with an email from Yancy. It has no subject. Just a URL pasted into the body of it. No further explanation, no commentary. 

Raleigh clicks it warily, and watches a video of Chuck, clearly in a post-game interview, pushing sweaty hair out of his face.

“I just haven’t found my stride without Raleigh. Aleksis is great. I just can’t adapt. I spent my rookie year playing with Raleigh. He taught me everything I know. It’s only the beginning of the season, but hopefully I’ll figure it out soon. This stuff is all on me though. My hang-ups or whatever. Sophomore slump, I guess.”

Raleigh watches that video three times, categorizing every twist of Chuck’s mouth, and the way his face twitches when he says Raleigh’s name.

_what’s this from?_

Yancy’s reply comes immediately.

_Post-game from tonight. It’s not just you, kid._

Raleigh groans and opens up his text conversation with Chuck.

_you can’t just say stuff like that christ_

Chuck reads it a few seconds later. 

Raleigh waits, but a reply never comes.

\----

Yancy starts sending him various links to interviews and clips of Chuck talking about playing, and about Raleigh.

One video is just a compilation from YouTube titled ‘Chuck looking sad when Raleigh is mentioned’. It’s over two minutes long.

 _Okay, okay. I get it._ Raleigh replies when Yancy sends him a tweet with two pictures comparing Chuck’s expression when he’s standing next to Raleigh and when he’s standing next to Aleksis.

_Do something about it, then. You’re both a mess._

Raleigh tells himself he’ll call Chuck about it, but he doesn’t.

\----

Raleigh goes out to celebrate a win with the team on a Saturday night. He makes the mistake of trying to out drink Mako, which he will never do again, but that means by the time he gets home calling Chuck seems like a great idea.

"Chuck. Chuck, hey," Raleigh says when he picks up.

"Hey, Ray," Chuck replies, sounding quietly amused.

"You're the only one who calls me that," Raleigh says with a sigh, flopping down onto his bed. "I like it."

"That's not what you used to say."

"I changed my mind. You should call me that all the time."

"I can do that, Ray."

Raleigh stretches on the bed. "Talk to me?"

"About what?" He sounds flirty as he says it, and Raleigh is buzzed and he can feel arousal fizzling in the back of his mind.

"Tell me I have soft hands and you like my hockey."

“I love your hockey. It’s bloody brilliant. You’ve got one of the filthiest backhands in the league.” 

Raleigh rocks his hips a little against the mattress listening to the emphasis he puts on ‘filthiest’.

“You’ve got great legs, and soft hands. I think about your hands all the time,” Chuck says, low like a secret, and Raleigh suspects they aren’t talking about hockey anymore, but he can’t be entirely sure.

Raleigh takes the risk. “What do you think about my hands doing?”

Chuck takes a deep breath. “A lot of things. Mostly about how you could use them on me.”

Raleigh grinds down into the mattress hard with a groan. “Tell me.”

Chuck’s breathing harder now. “They’re so nice, Ray. I want them all over me.”

Raleigh rolls over and jerks his pants down so he can get a hand on himself while Chuck continues. 

“When we would practice slap shots in the backyard, and you weren’t wearing your gloves so I could see your hands on the stick. Fuck, that was a special kind of torture, Ray. Don’t get me started on your fingers. I want to suck on them. I want them in me. I want them buried in my hair.”

“Shit,” Raleigh breathes into the phone, stroking himself faster. “You can have all that, Chuck. Any of it.”

“You’re so far away now. I can’t fucking stand it,” Chuck says, groaning. 

“We still have one more game during the season. All-Star break. The offseason. You’re living in my house, after all.”

“I’ve been sleeping in your bed,” Chuck admits.

“Were you in my bed when you called that night?”

Chuck groans. “Yeah, shit, Ray. Your sheets still smelled like you.”

Raleigh comes with a shudder. 

Raleigh listens to Chuck finish himself off, wiping his hand on his t-shirt. 

“Don’t act like this didn’t happen this time,” Raleigh whispers into the phone after they’ve both got their breathing back under control.

“I won’t.”

Raleigh waits a beat. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Raleigh closes his eyes. “We can talk on the phone more? Just, to talk even.”

Chuck laughs. “I’d like that.”

“We picked a shit time to start something like this,” Raleigh says ruefully.

“We’ll get by.”

“Stay on the line?” 

“Sure thing, Ray.”

Raleigh falls asleep listening to Chuck breathing.

\----

They get better at playing with their new partners. They talk on the phone every night they can manage. It isn’t great, but it’s the best they can get.

Raleigh gets invited to attend the All-Star Game with Mako, who grins excitedly and begs him to go. 

So he accepts the invitation.

It’s only later that evening he sees Chuck has been invited to go as well.

 _go to the game._

_for you._

Yancy calls him later. “See you and your boy are going to the games together. If you two are going to elope, here’s your chance.”

“I don’t think PR would like that very much,” Raleigh says with a roll of his eyes.

“Everyone likes a love triumphs all story, Rals.”

Raleigh squirms uncomfortably. “Yeah.”

Yancy pauses for second. “You have it bad, kid.”

“Yeah,” he repeats because there’s no use denying it.

Yancy whistles. 

“I know.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I mean, I don’t see the appeal, but even obnoxious defensemen need love.”

“Thanks for your support.”

Yancy laughs, but he’s gentle when he says, “Always, bro.”

\----

Raleigh and Mako get into town in the first wave of players to arrive for the All-Star Game.

They spend the first part of the day walking around downtown, and then hang around the hotel talking to some of the other players.

Mako and Raleigh are sitting with Sasha and Cheung when Chuck comes in with Aleksis. 

Raleigh half stands, before he looks back to Mako. She rolls her eyes. 

“Go on. I’m going to go spend some time with the other ladies here. They are always interesting. More interesting than you, for sure.”

She says it with a grin, and Raleigh laughs gratefully.

“Thanks, Mako. I’ll see you for dinner.”

She rolls her eyes again. “Don’t bother. Spend some time with your friend. I can handle myself.”

Chuck smiles at him, soft and pleased, when Raleigh walks up to lean on the counter next to him. 

Raleigh’s _missed_ him, and his smile, and those dimples. 

They don’t get any real alone time that first day. There’s too much to do with the press and different media outlets. By the time all of the media obligations they have are done, it’s late and they’re both tired. 

Raleigh walks Chuck to his room.

“Stay with me?” Chuck asks softly, hand on the doorknob. 

“Let me go get my bag.”

Chuck hands him the key to the room. “Just let yourself in.”

Raleigh doesn’t exactly run to his own room, but he definitely power walks. He even takes the stairs the three flights down and back up because he doesn’t have the patience to wait for the elevator.

Chuck is sacked out in bed when Raleigh lets himself in. Raleigh takes a minute to just look at him, before he goes about getting ready for bed himself. 

Raleigh runs his fingers through Chuck’s hair as he slides in under the covers. 

Chuck barely stirs.

\----

They’re attached at the hip through the games. Raleigh loses to Aleksis at the hardest shot, but still clocks in at 101 mph. Chuck wins fastest skater.

The actual 3-on-3 event pits Chuck and Raleigh against each other in the final. Chuck smirks at him, puck on his stick behind his net, and Raleigh’s never been one to back down from a challenge. 

Their entire shift is a game of keep away reminiscent of their time in training camp. Their teammates watch them go at it as the crowd cheers. Raleigh manages to get the puck away from Chuck using that same trick Chuck used on him so many months ago. He slides his stick under the blade of Chuck’s and twist it up and out of the way to slip the puck back and away to his winger. 

Raleigh’s division wins the game.

“That was some pretty impressive puck handling you two did for those few minutes there,” a reporter comments to the two of them afterwards. “And that move you used to finally get it over to your teammate, Raleigh, was pretty slick.”

Raleigh grins. “Learned from the best. You never expect your own tricks to be used against you.”

Chuck laughs, and the reporter sends them off with a smile.

Raleigh trails along behind Chuck as he leads the way back to his room at the hotel.

“We both leave tomorrow. This is our last chance for anything before the offseason,” Chuck says as he opens his door.

They haven’t had time for anything like this since arriving. It’s been media appearances, the skills competitions, the game itself, saying hello to the other players. Raleigh hasn’t even really seen Mako outside the team oriented media appearances they had to make. 

They haven’t even kissed, and that fact suddenly takes root in Raleigh’s head. He doesn’t understand how they overlooked that.

Raleigh has to remedy it immediately. 

Chuck sighs into the kiss, like he’s been waiting for it. It’s the best kiss Raleigh’s ever been a part of.

They skip dinner in order to stay there in bed.

Chuck wakes him up early in the morning, the sun still not out yet. He’s already dressed, suitcase packed. “I have the first flight out.”

“Don’t go,” Raleigh finds himself saying, sleep addled and comfortable.

Chuck kisses him hard. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to, okay? We’ll see each other soon. I still have to sweep you in our series.”

“Not a chance.”

“Watch me,” Chuck says, before he kisses Raleigh one more time.

“I’ll call you when I land,” he says with a sad smile.

Raleigh nods. “Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

\----

Two weeks after the All-Star Game, Stacker pulls him aside. 

“Becket, get in here.”

Raleigh glances at Mako, who shrugs. 

Stacker gestures at the chair across from his desk when he walks in. “Close the door and sit down.”

Raleigh does as he’s told. He’s trying not to get himself worked up, but the trade deadline is in two weeks. He doesn’t think he’s done anything to warrant getting shipped away, but he definitely hasn’t been as good as he could have been either.

“This conversation does not leave this room, do you understand?”

Raleigh nods.

“I’m in talks with a few teams, shopping around for a blueliner. There aren’t very many in the league who can keep up with you, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The asking price for the one I’m truly after is steep. Are you still with me?”

Raleigh’s trying not to get his hopes up. He’s trying to keep himself in check. “Still with you, sir.”

“They want our first round. Now, I think this team has a real chance at the Cup. Shoring up our blueline would give us some really solid ground. For our first round, though, it has to be worth it. Personal feelings aside, I need you to tell me your honest assessment. The only reason I’m even talking to you about this is because I can look at numbers, and watch him play all I want, and I can speculate on the reason for his downturn in production and uptick in penalty minutes. You’ve played with him though, and I’ll trust your judgement.”

Raleigh sits up straighter. “He’s a smart player. He’ll add a physicality to this team that we sometimes lack. He plays topline minutes. I think he’s struggled this past season, I won’t lie to you about that, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Aleksis can’t keep up with him. Their play styles are too different, and not entirely compatible. He can be impulsive, and make some plays his partner might not see coming. It makes him dangerous, but it can make him a liability. He pinches in too far, and he likes to pick fights. He’s one of the best, sir, and that’s the honest truth.”

Stacker nods. “That’s all, Becket, thank you.”

“Yes, sir. Hope I was a help.”

Stacker smiles. “You always are. Now, get out of here. Remember what I said. This isn’t official yet, and I don’t want anyone to get their hopes up, okay? I’m working on it.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

\----

Raleigh doesn’t mention his talk with Stacker to anyone, as promised. In fact, he does his best to put it out of his mind entirely. He can’t get wrapped up in possibilities. He can’t get his hopes up. 

As the trade deadline gets closer and closer without any movements for their team, the more Raleigh starts to think the whole deal must have fallen through. He grits his teeth and ignores the new ache in his chest.

Seventeen minutes before the deadline passes, Chuck calls him.

“Raleigh,” he says, breathless and excited. “Ray, I’m coming to you.”

Raleigh drops the water bottle he was holding. “What?”

“Management pulled me in today, my agent was there. They made a deal. Your first round for me and one of the wingers from our minor team.”

“Oh thank god,” Raleigh says, and Chuck laughs in delight. “When do you get in? I’ll pick you up and bring you home.”

Yancy sends him a text message with a bunch of eggplant emojis when the news is officially released by the NHL.

An interview with Stacker appears on Twitter an hour after that. 

“Why Chuck Hansen? His stats have been erratic since the beginning of the season.”

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I’ve looked at his stats. I’m aware that they aren’t what anyone would expect of him, especially coming off the high of last season. He won the Calder last season for a reason. His level of play is something hard to match. Aleksis and him as a pairing get by. I’m sure I don’t need to point out that their shot allowance on 5-on-5 is remarkably low. Those two are a defensive masterpiece, even with Chuck not preforming at capacity. I’m in possession of the one thing that might elevate his game back to the level it was in his rookie season.”

“Are you talking about Raleigh Becket?”

“That’s all the time I have. Thank you for your questions.”

\----

Their first game back together is a defensive work of art. Stacker smiles, pleased and smug, at the reporters after the game but doesn’t take their questions.

They fall back into rhythm seamlessly, like the whole half of a season that separated them never happened. 

They also fall back into bed together the way they had at the end of the All-Star Game. 

“I don’t know what this is, but it’s serious for me,” Chuck tells Raleigh one evening, cuddled up on the couch together. Raleigh is helping hold an icepack to Chuck’s shoulder after a hard hit during the third period of their last game.

“This is serious for me too, Chuck. Always has been,” Raleigh replies, and Chuck squeezes his arms tighter around Raleigh’s waist.

“Serious as in, not today, maybe not this season, but at some point, I’m going to tell everyone. As soon as you’re ready,” Chuck says in challenge.

“Okay,” Raleigh says, and he grins a little into Chuck’s hair. He’s got some phone calls to make.

\----

“You want to get in touch with who?”

“Patrick Burke. The You Can Play project,” Raleigh explains again.

“Okay. I mean, that’ll be good for your marketability later on, for sure,” his agent says, and he can hear pages flipping on the other end of the line.

Raleigh doesn’t say anything else about his motives.

Patrick Burke is thrilled to hear from him, and even fully supports his self-written message. 

“This is a great thing you’re doing for the project.”

Raleigh shrugs. “I’m not really doing it for the project. I’m doing it for me.”

“And that’s okay too. We’ve got the cameras all set up. You’ll skate in, score on our stand in goalie, and then skate over the camera and deliver your message.” 

“Got it,” Raleigh says, nerves finally settling in.

“We’ll send you the final for approval once we finish editing and before it hits any outlets.”

“Sounds good,” Raleigh says, rocking back and forth on his skates, leaning against the boards.

“All right, whenever you’re ready, Raleigh.”

So Raleigh skates into frame, sends a fancy goal top shelf into the net, and stops hard in front of the camera.

“My name is Raleigh Becket, and I’m a defenseman in the National Hockey League. My sexuality doesn’t ever come into question, and it never should. The only question that matters is if I can play, and I can play. If you can play, you can play.”

Burke claps him on the shoulder. “Looks good, Raleigh. Do you want to run it through a few more times? We’ll pick the best and edit it together.”

So Raleigh does it a few more times, scores different types of goals, and thanks the crew and everyone involved for having him.

When Burke sends him the clip for approval, he doesn’t watch it before he approves it.

It’ll be put out on their social media accounts at the end of the day.

Raleigh waits nervously for the release, and then waits for Chuck to see it once it is out.

“What did you do?” Chuck asks him after dinner, looking at his phone.

“Nothing. Just, took the first step so things are easier later on down the line.”

Chuck looks up and watches him for a second before he smiles, wide and pleased.

\----

Chuck’s _Player’s Tribune_ article comes out a week later. Raleigh hadn’t realized he was doing it, but it gets tweeted at him relentlessly once it drops.

Raleigh reads it quietly sitting on the couch with Chuck tucked into his side, an embarrassed flush to Chuck’s cheeks.

_People kept asking me at the start of the season why my problem was. The coaches, my teammates, my friends. In the beginning, I’m not quite sure I could have told you. Why couldn’t I play? Hell if I knew. I just couldn’t._

_My rookie season was an absolute dream. Drafted first overall, made an NHL roster out of training camp to play top line minutes with a great veteran. Winning the Calder. It was all surreal._

_Hockey isn’t really a big deal where I come from. Not a lot of ice in a desert country. I worked hard to get where I was, so it seemed like everything had come together perfectly. I had earned all of that for myself, an all that hard work and the sacrifices my father and I made had paid off._

_When the season ended, I didn’t realize how much it was going to change for me when Raleigh didn’t resign. It’s a business. We’re supposed to adapt. It’s nothing personal. All those things they tell you when your best friend leaves the city for good. He was my best friend for that season, and one of the best friends I have ever had. He’d been my steadfast support, even when my game wasn’t at its best._

_When people were asking me what was wrong with my hockey, all he did was tell me I was still a good player and I would get through. It meant a lot to me that even on different teams he would still give me positive feedback. He’s one of the best blokes I know, not just a good hockey player but a standup guy._

_But again, it’s a business. We’re hockey players, we adapt. We do our jobs, we get wins and goals and block shots. That’s what they want us to do._

_So when people asked me what was wrong, I said I would get there. I have a job to do. I was so angry at the start of this season, though. Penalty after penalty after fight._

_Eventually, I guess I found the pattern. Whenever I talked to Raleigh on the phone, I felt calmer. I felt more in control of myself, and able to focus on improving my game._

_When people asked me what was wrong, why I couldn’t play, I could find some decent answers, but they were never the right one._

_I struggled through the season, though my game at least leveled out. The bad days and the good days averaged out. I had a baseline performance, but I still knew I could do better._

_Aleksis, poor bloke, used to ask me what he could do differently to help my game. I didn’t know what to tell him. It was never his fault. In the beginning, before I realized my problem, there was nothing I could pin down to tell him. After I realized, there was still nothing I could say, and nothing he could do to fix it. Playing without Raleigh was just something I couldn’t do._

_I missed him. It boiled down to that. I was missing Raleigh Becket to the point of distraction. You hear all about all the injuries athletes play through. All those horrible pains they grit their teeth and bear._

_So to everyone who asked what my problem was, take it from experience: you can’t play hockey with a broken heart._

“Chuck…”

Chuck shrugs uncomfortably. “Don’t make a big deal about it, okay?”

Raleigh doesn’t see how he’s supposed to just let it go, but he presses a kiss into Chuck’s hair and drops it for the time being. 

_Your boy’s a fucking poet, kid. You should frame that article and put it on your mantle. That’s some God tier level romantic bullshit._

_wow thanks Yancy_

_Rals, I’m serious. For how much of a trash talker he is on the ice, that’s a pretty eloquent and heartfelt declaration._

Raleigh glances down at Chuck, who is definitely falling asleep though he promised he wouldn’t when Raleigh asked if he wanted to start another episode of whatever stupid cooking show he’s so obsessed with.

_Yeah, I know. He’s something else._

\----

They don’t win the Cup.

They make it to the Conference Finals just to lose it in six. 

It stings, but Chuck turns to him, and says, “We’ll get it next season.”

Raleigh nods, and says just as seriously, “Yeah, we will.”

And they do.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh thanks for reading.
> 
> Comments loved!


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